Not (Just) A Mage Lord Isekai

Grinding out my affinities was a matter of tedium more than anything else we'd done. It proved to be enough of a challenge that we hadn't finished by the time we bid farewell to Books.

His domain lay up a separate branch of the river we’d been following, and there was a boat waiting for him. It was much smaller than the one we were on, barely large enough for two people. It also lacked any sort of propulsion that I could see.

“Well, at least one of you proved you were a capable student,” Books said, bowing his head in my direction.

Nexxa rolled her eyes, but didn’t bother responding.

“Take care of yourself,” I said, feeling somewhat sad to see him go. While he’d been dry at times, I felt considerably better prepared for whatever I found when I got to my domain. Still felt like I was under six feet of water, but at least I could conceive of the surface.

“That is hardly a concern,” Books said, though he did nod in my direction again before lifting into the air and floating over to the boat. Then he spun a hand, and the water behind their boat shot out like a jet.

It only took seconds before he’d disappeared around a bend in the river.

“Good riddance,” Nexxa said, waving a hand in his direction. “Now, back to the grind.”

I grunted, but followed her below decks, where we adjusted my spell loadout once more. Casting Flare was exciting the first time, but by the twentieth, even the fact I was making a jet of flame erupt from my hands had lost its luster. It was easy to get my affinities close to the levels I wanted, but getting four affinities to exactly 33 and the others to 11 required the sort of precision I usually needed when machining a piston. And I didn't have a proper machining setup that would simplify the process.

If I went over with any of them, then I’d have to push all of the affinities even higher to hit the next natural balance point at 36 and 12. Or bring all eight up to be equal. Either of which could take years without Nexxa around, and months, even with her help. And I needed to get to my domain sometime this year. I could feel my oath pulling at me, a subtle pressure to take up my mantle that would only grow stronger the longer I waited. So, instead of risking pushing myself out of balance, I was taking in the scenery.

It was a rather peaceful little valley, completely untouched by civilization, other than a single trail of smoke originating beneath a stone plateau that hung over what remained of the river. This far up, the ship was at risk of running aground at every slight bend, though the river widened past the outcropping, almost to the point of being a lake.

Which, I imagined, was why Althon chose this as the heart of Nexxa's domain. It wouldn't take much effort for her to widen the river enough to allow ships to pass more easily, even if her Earth affinity was zero.

There were actually three folks waiting for us, all of which had been dropped off by airship, alongside Nexxa’s Domain Beacon. The Beacon wasn’t visible, but I could feel its presence, buried just past the stone. Not mana, exactly, but my oath recognized it.

My attention shifted to the group on the shore.

The first person I guessed was the hunter who would teach Nexxa. The second would be my guide. As to the third, I didn't know. Maybe a specialist for the beacon. Or someone who’d wanted in at the founding of her domain.

When we drew closer, I noted that the tallest of the three had a monstrous bloodline, with thick horns and dark blue skin. Either he, or one of his ancestors, had incorporated some mystical creature into one of their Hydra-soul's augmentation nodes. Considering I couldn’t feel any pressure coming off him, I was leaning towards an ancestor.

Most human and elven mages avoided using obvious monstrous components at Hydra-soul, taking the extra time to develop their own, specifically to avoid physical changes that passed down to their descendents. Some felt the time saved was worth it, obviously. And others actually wanted the changes, whether to set themselves apart as something else, or for… other reasons.

If Perth's memories were serving me properly, in the Howling Wastes, it was seen as an honor to have monstrous traits. Considering how hostile the Howling Wastes were to anyone who wasn't a Forgeborn, that made a certain amount of sense. Those traits would help folk survive, even if they weren't an ensouled.

And speaking of Forgeborn, the second figure was either the most heavily armored person I'd seen in either life, or they were from that very race. As the name implied, Forgeborn were made as much as born. At least, they had been. The art had been lost hundreds of years ago to all except the Forgeborn themselves after their great rebellion. A rebellion that led to the formation of the Howling Wastes.

Forgeborn were distinct from golems, in that they had the spark of sapience within them. Even then, there were Forgeborn who saw even the least golems as their kin. Thankfully, they were a fringe group. A lot of dangerous tasks were handled by non-sentient golems.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The Forgeborn watched us get closer with deep yellow eyes. Their sharp angles, dark green and black color scheme and penetrating gaze reminded me of a video I'd seen of jaguars, back on Earth. Except this Forgeborn looked more aggressive than any jaguar, towering above the others on their two digitigrade legs.

Even as we drew closer, the third figure stayed seated, their features hidden by a heavy cloak, though I could make out a long stemmed pipe slowly puffing out rings of smoke.

The captain drew us up just downshore of the three figures.

Only the tall one with horns moved to meet us.

He called out a greeting in Elinder, and I regretted the lack of practice we'd put into the language. We'd used a spell to download the basics, then hadn't put in any effort to master it. And it showed immediately as I struggled to parse his next sentence. It was like trying to understand someone who spoke English with a really thick accent.

Thankfully, it seemed the captain was fluent. I caught her mentioning the Alvian language, and the horned man nodded, calling back, "My apologistics. Which you is Nexxa? Sworn, I have, to aid her."

"Guessing that's your hunter," I said, my gaze shifting to the two figures who remained on the rock.

"Yep, yep. Bet the old man's your guide," Nexxa said, waving towards the still seated figure in the cloak.

"Old man, huh? You seeing something I can't?" I teased, knowing full well she hadn't included any binocular-type spells in her current loadout. She had them in her grimoire, as did I, but neither of us were using them.

Yet.

I suspected I'd have a lot of use for Eagle Eyes once Calbern and I started along the High Road. The same applied for Nexxa, once she started prowling her territory.

"Nah. I just know these things. Prodigy, remember?" Nexxa said before jumping over the side of the ship and flying over to meet her hunter.

“Cheater,” I grumbled good-naturedly as I watched the hunter accept her outstretched hand, immediately pulling her into a bear hug. Which led to Nexxa lifting him straight off the ground as she flew upwards, earning a mighty laugh out of the man when she dropped him six feet.

Once the sailors slid down the ramp, which they called a load-plank, I made my own way ashore. I almost fell over, not having realized how used to the moving deck I'd gotten.

So it was, with my ass firmly planted not ten feet from the bottom of the load-plank that the Forgeborn and the cloaked figure approached. The cloaked figure was less than half the Forgeborn's height, which wasn't saying much since the Forgeborn had to be at least eight feet tall.

"Hello," I said, doing my best to sit up straight despite the world continuing to sway beneath me.

The Forgeborn waved to their smaller companion.

"I am Tresla, translator. And this is your guide, Inertia," the cloaked figure said, her voice surprisingly melodic considering the pipe.

"My name is Perth. Forgive me for not standing, but I seem to have a bad case of sea legs."

Tresla turned to Inertia, puffing several different rings out in their direction before turning back to me. There were a few hisses of steam and a sharp whistle from Inertia in return.

"Inertia can sympathize. She has spent many nights with similar symptoms after being deposited via airship. She hopes your symptoms pass quickly."

"Does Inertia understand Alvian? Or maybe Elinder?"

"She understands the language of the sky elves, though she only speaks a few words. And she understands some small parts of Alvian, but she is loath to learn the language of the enslavers."

"Huh. Fair nuff," I replied, testing my balance and finding the swaying had reduced to a point I could at least stand. "I know some Elinder, but not enough to be fluent, it seems. Cheated with a spell, but it didn't stick as well as we'd hoped."

"Ah, Inertia has met many who have become addled by such attempts. She is relieved you are intact. And she didn't say it, but she's pretty surprised," Tresla informed me, still puffing away at her pipe.

"Thanks, I think. Say, if you're a translator… If it's alright with Inertia, would you be able to help me with my Elinder? Say, for an hour a day?"

Tresla's smoke rings stopped for a few seconds as her hood turned in my direction. I caught a glimmer of red beneath but then Inertia let out a sharp whistle, and Tresla started blowing the rings once more.

After a minute, Inertia nodded and Tresla turned back to me. "Inertia is pleased that you will make this effort. When the frost wolves come for us, she will make sure your end is quick."

"Yeah, I'm gonna take a hard pass on that, though I think I appreciate the sentiment."

A light chuckle escaped Tresla's hood before she turned and blew her smoke rings at Inertia.

"Inertia understands and respects the desire to struggle even when all hope is lost. She will do her best to hide you from the wolves so she does not have to hear your suffering." Tresla paused for a few seconds before adding. "She must really like you. Don't think she's ever made an offer like that before."

"I certainly appreciate it. Please let her know we won't be heading out for a few days. I need to ascend to Astral-soul first."

"Sorry, how old are you?" Tresla asked, only to be interrupted by another whistle from Inertia. "Sorry, I'm not supposed to ask new people rude questions without asking her first."

After another round of smoke circles, Tresla turned back to me. "Inertia has no problem waiting. Time does not hold the same meaning for her as us mere mortals."

"Good. Once he's done helping Nexxa get things sorted, I'll introduce both of you to Calbern. He'll be making the journey with us," I said while pointing to where he stood directing the sailors further up the shore.

"Inertia welcomes one who understands the order required in a proper forge. Please let him know that the earlier offer still stands."

"Doubt he'll take her up on it, but sure, I'll tell him."

We settled into silence for a while then, Tresla continuing to make her smoke signals. I was fairly sure she was using them to communicate with Inertia, though I hadn't figured out the exact mechanisms involved. Size and shape seemed important, but didn't carry the nuance she'd used so far.

I was tempted to ask Tresla to teach me the smoke ring language as well, but I felt one language was enough for the time being.

Even a Magus Dominus born of two worlds had his limits.